RWBY: Alkaline
by Shadowtrack
Summary: Far out in the forest between Vacuo and Vale, a village acts as a refueling point for trade ships. Ruled by a militarist upholding peace from the Grimm. A corporation arrives causing mutual tension; capturing Grimm to give to investors, they team with the town for protection and give them dust in return. 1 fighter lies inbetween, finding that he can no longer deny reality. Canon.
1. Calm Before the Storm

**A/n Why hello there. This would be my first attempt at fanfiction ever, so I am just kinda throwing myself to the wolves right now. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.**

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><p>Early in the morning, far out in the dense woods in-between Vale and Vacuo, an enormous tree was being circled by a growing number of growling beowolves creeping from the bush. The largest and wisest among trees held no worry itself, having being generously armored by its local resident. Its occupier may have been a bit messy, and that fire some odd years ago he caused was ….troublesome, but he at least re-payed it by making itself nigh invincible. Even the nickname "Iron Tree" was a nice touch and it has even grown fond of the name.<p>

The elder tree just looked upon the creatures with disapproval and went on doing its thing; growing, spreading roots. Just another day. The beowolves on the other hand, were getting antsy that they couldn't find that delicious smell of human flesh and emotion. One of the more impatient beowolves took a running start and pummeled the tree with its shoulder out of spite. Besides a good amount of leaves that shook free, the armored tree bushed it off as a tickle. However, the bash seemed to have stirred someone in a tree house 40 meters above the monsters. The young man had on a white t-shirt and some deep purple sleeping pants. His platinum blonde hair and clothes sticking to the steel plate beneath him. He creaked opened his eyelids to reveal his blazing blue eyes once, but decided to just turn over on his gleaming bed. "I'm sure…*yawn*…they'll tire out eventually…" sighed, and closed his eyes once more.

Another two beowolves started grasping the metal beginning to rip it off, howling in delight they were getting somewhere. Now the tree started to get a little distressed, but the popping of the screws releasing from the bark and the calls of the monsters finally caused the occupant of the house to sit up and rub his eyes. The tree calmed itself after hearing its lone tenant wake with a groan. After a decent amount of stretching, he left his less-than-comfy steel bed with a crackling noise, got to his feet, and peered down the entrance. A pack of 11 beowolves were gnawing at the base of his tree, while the larger leader of the pack seemed to be growling orders to its less experienced "buddies."

He irritably yawned, and walked to the right of the entrance. Kicking on his brown moccasins, he grabbed a blue and silver contraption clinging on the wall with help from a makeshift wooden hanger. He also grabbed a copper gauntlet neglected on the ground and fastened it to his left arm. Fumbling with the leather straps, he trudged his way back to the gaping hole in the side of the treehouse. Once at the edge, he let one foot hang down, tipped, and let gravity do the rest. He fell for about a foot before his feet clung to the metal attached to the tree. Nonchalantly, he started walking perpendicular to the ground, passing a sign reading "_Welcome to Iron Tree, Home of Yahto_" directly towards the horde of claws and teeth that remained on the ground. Yahto seeming walked to an unheard beat, shuffling and twisting his legs on the way down, clacking his feet against the metal as loud as his moccasins would let him. The noise caught the attention of the beowolves who will still trying to tear the sheet-metal around the base of the tree.

Instinct again took over any sense of strategy that the grimm may have had, and started leaping up in the air and clawing once again at the metal plates than remained higher up on the tree. Yahto skipped down another 10 meters and amusingly watched the beowolves try to get to his height and rip him to shreds. Their jump height was just out of reach for the tasty morsel that hovered above them and howled in frustration. As if a response to their wails, Yahto's exterior began glowing a luminescent blue with sporadic sparks of electricity circling around his arms and legs. One jumped once more and snapped it jaws centimeters from Yahto's face. It was just about to swipe a paw at him when Yahto strained his head back, brought his finger up to the beast's mask, and yawned out a "Zap!" The beowolf convulsed and halted its attack instantly, freefalling as a smoldering chunk of flesh to land on top of its fellow monstrosities.

Still tapping his foot, his attention was brought to the contraption in his left arm. Looking it over, the sleek silver metal with bright blue wisps was in a compact and slender U-shape. Deeming it fit for use, Yahto gave a sharp twist to the piece directly in the middle of the device. It sprung into the shape of a recurve bow, and extended itself with pieces hidden from view, making it about half of Yahto's height; 1 meter in length. The polar ends sparked with a jagged blue for a moment and then burst to life an electric bowstring. Yahto started to hum and half heartily sing a long forgotten song.

"_Took all the windows from prisons and schools_

_Now what's a poor man left to do?_"

He brought the bow up to a firing stance and his hand to the conducted string, materializing an electric broad tipped arrow in the process. He took aim at the closest standing Grimm and released his draw with a quiet crack from the weapon. The arrow, instead of piercing the flesh of the creature, just vanished into the hide above where the heart would be. The beowolf juddered, sparks of electricity forming on its longer hairs, and fell back. He took the rest of them down one by one in a similar fashion. After Yahto thinned the herd, he focused on the one running away by pulling the electro-string back thru his teeth with a muffled,

"_Revolution, on its way_!"

He fired straight into the back of the beast; it ceased all motor functions and tumble-weeded into the grass a couple dozen meters from Iron Tree. The last one of the pack was still clawing away at the base of the tree. Yahto smirked, turned around, and pointed his bow behind him.

"Bonus Points!"

He extended his arm forward and shot in its general direction. Dipping his head back in anticipation, saw the beowolf was still standing with its head tilted towards where the arrow presumably landed. Yahto instantly scowled and quickly turned back around and shot it straight in the eye. He turned his view to the largest one, who was staying back watching him take out the rest of the pack. Spotting this, Yahto twisted the bow again and attached it the gauntlet on his left arm. Back to business, he started moving ryhtmically down the metal path on the tree once more. 3 meters from ground, he flipped off from the tree and stopped humming. The Grimm cautiously backed away.

"OH. NOOOO!" He yelled, B movie panic expression and all, fell to his knees.

"I'm all out of ammo! Whatever will I do? I can't possibly beat this powerful Grimm now!" He proceeded to cover his face with his hands, though he was staring expectantly through the cracks of his fingers at the beast.

The Grimm noticing the killer was down and out, started to rush him with all its bloodlust was worth. As soon as salivating creature was about to pounce on him, Yahto vanished from sight and the Beowolf's effort caught him a face full of dirt. Before the thing could get up Yahto used its back as a couch and pushed his hand on the monster's nape. The monster's fur stood on end and shook like the rest of its brethren. After a couple seconds, it ate dirt once again. He knocked on the helm of the beast.

"Just kidding. Learn sarcasm man."


	2. Clean Ups are Never Fun

**A/n Part 2 now up! If anyone has questions concerning the story, Yahto, his weapon, etc. just send me a message. I will answer to the best of my ability without spoiling anything!**

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><p>Yahto surveyed the area of fallen Beowolves from the back of their leader and a feeling of contentment washed over his psyche; a rare thing to happen when he woke up this early.<p>

"Welp, better get the old clunker up and running to get these guys to their new home."

Yahto proceeded to stand and jump off the alpha beowolf's back and started lazily walking to the right of Iron Tree.

_Hope those bastards left the truck and the ladder alone._

He turned passed an adjacent tree to see a dark green and brown tarp over a large object.

_The truck seems untouched, so with any luck…._

He surveyed the makeshift ladder for damage and sighed when none was found. Yahto could finally count himself fortunate. For old time's sake, he followed the path up the nailed pieces of wood rising up the tree. They climbed ever higher until they reached a point where one starts to burrow its way through an opening to a square platform. The platform itself was there to allow for a sturdy plank to reach to the tree-house on the top of Iron Tree. It led to the side opposite where Yahto first went to meet his morning alarm. A window was the only thing accessible from that smooth wooden side. The window itself was more like a small door, having area of a whole square meter. It had a cross section to it like any other old fashioned window, except this one had a lock to it on the left side of the pane. It's long lost friend -the key- seemingly safe somewhere. Yahto managed a weak smile and started to reminisce,

_Who needs a door when you got a big ass window!_

"Best logic as always, Taini."

He inhaled deeply and went back to business, hauling off the tarp to reveal the rusted dark green truck. However "truck" should be used tentatively here. As is was as much an actual truck as it was a dump truck. It had a huge back end that allowed for transport of various objects of all sizes…..and more. Yahto walked over to the second step of the ladder, reached behind it, and got the key to the truck. Taking a rising stride to get up into the hunk of metal, he turned the ignition. With a deathly cough, the motor grasped at life once more and turned over.

"Sometimes this thing scares me more than the Grimm…."

Yahto drove it roughly in the middle of all the downed beowolves. He started to stretch his arms thinking,

_What a pain. Always the worst part of the job._

He started to fiddle with the knobs and dials on the front of the dashboard.

_But music makes everything better._

He started searching through the CD already in place.

_No…naw…Ye-nah..….over played….there we are!_

Yahto exits the truck and struts over to the base of the tree, extending his arms, and goes back to his carefree attitude.

"...Hail! (_hail!)_ What's the matter with y-"

His eyes widened and pinched his nose shut,

_"this smell!?"_

Choking for a moment, a strong stench of three year old bacon filled the air. The source was coming from the beowolf closest to the tree.

_Oh. That first one I rolled out the welcome mat to didn't enjoy the hospitality much. Meh. Not a big loss taking into consideration all the others. _

Yahto decided to kill the thing and have it degenerate to end the odor. He removed his weapon from the gauntlet and twisted the center to activate the bow. But his hands remained on the bow's grip, and he twisted the piece even further. The electricity stopped flowing from the electric catalysts and the bow started to transform. Separating into two pieces, the center piece now extends a couple inches and creates two handle grips. The ends of the bow shaft rotates 180 degrees, shifting downwards so that the tip of the bow points forward, and locked into place. Jagged blades extend outwards by a way similar to that of a babushka doll. A curved spike similar to a talon from a bird of prey, extends from the back of the bow. The arched shaft of the bow becomes the shaft of the two twin weapons. Yahto held the blades parallel to his stiffened arms; the weapon now became a set of tomahawks, ready to gash Grimm. He brought heel of the tomahawk to the throat of the Grimm, and cleaved downwards. The head rolled off, and the body already started showing signs of disintegrating.

_No matter how many times I see this, I still can't wrap my head around it. How does it just disappear like that? Why? Where does it go?_

Yahto took a deep breath while recombining his weapon,

"I suppose that's why Capture Corp. and I do this….besides the perks."

His stomach let out a large rumbling noise as he put Shikinyan back on his gauntlet.

"Speaking of, I could use one of those perks right now. I should wrap this up quickly. Wasting precious time anyways."

He pulled a level on the back of the truck which brought down a long declining ramp. Meanwhile, Yahto started loading the beowolves onto the flatbed by pulling them up. After getting to the alpha beowolf, he started sweating and taking some huffs of air.

"There has….got to be…a better…way…..to do THIS!"

Yahto gave one last pull to the alpha and threw him on top of his unconscious comrades. Dropping to the ground, he surveys the pile of bodies that is very nearly overflowing the back end of the truck. Raising his eyebrows, he made a sheepish smile.

_Eh I'm sure it will be fine._

He returned the lever to its rightful position, got in the truck, and started on his way to Capture Corp.


	3. Too Many Walls

The brake and gas pedal seem to be getting their faces rearranged through the forest; the leather steering wheel receiving a serious case of a strangle hold, spinning around faster than a gyroscope. Yahto was taking evasive maneuvers at the subsequent waves of trees coming up on the truck at a swift speed. He took a hard right and the bodies battered the left side of the truck. The mistaken identity missile launched off a large boulder, caught hang time, and slammed onto a rarely traveled dirt road. Yahto swerved to stay on the path and headed up the trail. Now driving on a sorry excuse for a street, he brought the speed of the truck to a tier above Sunday drive.

Trees started to become scarcer as the oddball pair of cargo and vehicle rolled onto pavement and passing a plastic sign reading "Welcome to Midbay!" Yahto thought that it acted less of a welcoming sign and more of a hope giver to anyone daring or stupid enough to come out this far. A glimpse of civilization can go a long way for a lost traveler. After all, most of the residents of Midbay would never see the sign. Why would they leave? They have food, shelter, peace, and protection inside the confinements of the city.

_Though I would rather be free than need constant protection. Those people follow orders and stay herded into one area for their entire lives and for what? Some food and a false sense of security? What happens when that security runs out of bullets? Still, the food aspect I can understand….._Yahto began to zone out into his own world, singing along to the CD and thinking about what he was going to eat after he dropped off the beowolves_._ He mouth started to water._ Some chocolate milk, pancakes, a couple eggs, and some sausage sound great right about now._

Mimicking the beat with his hands, the horizon started to fill with a tall steel wall surrounding a large village. Closing in, the wall loomed above him and his truck; it was even a tad higher than Iron Tree. In the glimmer of the rising sun, he could just barely make out the armed guards and AA turrets watching feverously into the sky and dark forest that lies across the road. Yahto scanned the rest of the encampment and smiled. Well, except for the one inside the tower. Through the window, he could see one guy snoring up logs in a swivel chair seemingly in front of a coffee machine; he wasn't at a good enough angle to peer in to be certain.

_Seems I'm not the only one who hates mornings._

After a minute of driving, his attention was caught to a commotion between a trucker and one of the guards behind the gate. Seemingly bringing in a shipment of dust by semi, the man looked nervous, pacing back and forth constantly looking over his back. Yahto mused,

"I don't blame him, this might as well have been a death sentence to any untrained driver. Even the pluckiest motorist wouldn't take that job unless they were getting paid double…triple on bad reports."

The guards on top of the wall suddenly perked up and moved to various positions. This caused Yahto to slow his truck's speed. They scrambled across the wall's plateau and opened up battlements in the side, weapons drawn. He started scanning the forest line 200 or so meters away like the guards and came to idle the old clunker.

_If that driver is scared now, I can't wait to see what he will do in 45 seconds._

He proceeded to park the truck and turn off the ignition. Yahto got out and decided to go over to the driver. The man was wearing a white trucker's uniform and a matching hat to boot. A bit shorter than Yahto, he was much stockier. Yahto managed to overhear some dialogue as he closed in,

"….ook, I was sent by the Schnee Company to give you this supply of dust in payment from Capture Corp. You guys need it, I want to get on my way. I don't know why you are being so uptight about this. Can I _at least_ get behind this damned gate?"

A flock of birds were startled and flew from the forest; not that these two noticed due to their squabble.

The guard in black and grey uniform bluntly responded over a voice comm,

"We cannot allow anyone in Midbay without the proper verification. It will only be a few more minutes."

The driver seemed irate now more than nervous,

"That's what you said 15 minutes ago! Just get me to safe-….and who the hell might you be!?" his glare turned to Yahto.

Yahto had to choke back a chuckle as this guy's anger was palpable.

"No time to give you my life story. What you need to know is that I have a weapon, the guards are about to open fire, and you should really get back into your truck."

The driver looked skeptical when an ear-piercing roar came from the trees about 100 meters across the road. Both the driver and Yahto turned to see seven ursa barreling towards the gate. Right thereafter, a loud thud of a truck door slamming shut could be heard. Redirecting his attention to the threat, Yahto saw one ursa was ahead of the pack and entered the unsuspecting field of grass, stepping on something man-made. There was faint whirring noise and then an electrical crack came from what he could deduce was a trip-mine. Another two were shot by the snipers of the guards, which tumbleweeded into the ground. They didn't shoot bullets, but tranquillizer darts; for the same reason Yahto didn't kill his beowolves. The remaining four ursa seemed to have avoided the other mines presumably placed in the trek to the road and were still running towards the gate. Another sniper round fired, but missed its target, and they Ursi continued to their goal. The driver of the dust semi-trailer was now blaring his horn and revving his engine trying to bluff his way in. Seems the guard on duty had other matters to attend to.

_Why isn't the main force shooting yet? _

Yahto was just about to draw Shikinyan when the ursas started to trample onto the road. As soon as they stepped foot onto the pavement, the guards opened fire. The ursas stumbled and fell, not even making it halfway across the road.

_Ooooh. They must use the road as a marker for their weapon's effective range._

"That's actually quite clever." Yahto remarked to himself.

The ursi taken care of, the battlements ceased firing and the soldiers on duty went back on standby. A small capture group was being rallied, gathering together in a communal possessed by the front tower. Though everything went back to normal, the semi driver showed no signs of stopping his horn from blaring. People were starting to drift out of their houses just to see what the commotion was. It seems the guard in charge of the gate finally got the proof she needed, or just didn't want any civil unrest coming from the citizens. Either way, she alerted the driver the gate was about to open. A grating metallic sound could be heard as the large gate began to open up to the distressed man. He wasted no time shifting gears and entering the village. The maniac passed a couple small boarding houses and homes to either side, blazed past a yellow light, and took a sharp right around the street corner. The spectators, now finished filling their curiosity, reentered their living abodes and shut out the world for another day.

Yahto pretended to have a conversation with the guy, deepening his voice.

"Thanks guy. I appreciate you looking out for me! I'm glad there are people like you way out here unlike the bundle of fun at the check in."

"Why thank you Mr. Ungrateful Salt Shaker, I do my best to help those in need. All in a day's work for a Hunter!"

Yahto gave an apathetic salute where the driver had stood and decided it was time to head back to his truck. He started walking when he noticed some black uniformed guards inspecting the bodies on the flatbed. Guns raised, they started circling the truck and opened the front door.

Brandishing a stern look, Yahto ran across the road to his truck.

"Hey-hey-hey-hey! Back off! The clunker and the wolves belong to me!"

The guards were startled and spun around to point their guns toward him. A look of surprise fastened to Yahto as he shot his hands up in the air. Their visors covered their faces, but he was sure they were at least a little scared. Judging by their height and curiosity, they must have been younger than 18.

"Uh, woah there soldiers…. New guys on the block right? The famous shifting of the guards of Midbay! You've been to Bayside Bistro's right? Best cooking in town!" Yahto said smiling trying to diffuse the situation. One vaguely nodded in agreement, slightly lowering his weapon. However, he was nudged in his ribs to keep the barrel pointed at the intruder. The leader seemed to be mumbling through his helmet comm about their current circumstance to someone from HQ. Seems easing the tension isn't a possibility here. Yahto's smile vanished.

_Oh great. Greenies with no sense of humor or information. Thanks for filling them in Commander Dipshit. _

"Ok guys. Just get ahold of Ms. Noir and I'm sure she will let m-" He was interjected by the leader holding up his hand and declaring,

"Enough. I have just contacted Commander Noir. She said you are to come with us. Follow or be fired upon. Your call."

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><p><strong>An Hey, I switched out how Yahto's melee weapon functions to something more fitting for his theme. For those of you who read Chapter 2, you may want to re-read the part about the weapon description. Chapter 4 will be up within a week's time!**


	4. Not Enough Bridges

Yahto gritted his teeth. _Just what I needed in the morning. An obsessed killjoy and her false sense of rational ready to throw me into a pit of Grimm. What could she possibly want today!?_

He begrudgingly complied and gestured for the squad leader to show him the way. Yahto was then escorted to the inside of the wall. He was led to a coiling flight of stairs you might see in a dungeon, a scowl deepening with each step. The flight of stairs took a whole two minutes to reach the top. A waiting room opened up to them; nothing spectacular. A couple cushioned chairs, a wooden coffee table with a half or dozen or so magazines on it, and a water cooler off to the far left. Though it seems they don't intend to keep Yahto waiting. The door to Noir's office was open and he proceeded to be forced into walking in with the guards.

He glanced over Commander Noir's office. Yeah, still the same old militaristic crap hole.

The room was of average size, but what it contained was far from average. At her desk, the woman was feverishly working on something out of eyeshot; the computer was blocking Yahto's view. Occasionally, she looked up to the dozens of monitor screens keeping the forest under surveillance in front of her desk. Scanning the rest of the room, pictures of the infant Midbay and its settlers hung on the side walls. Back when this was just a nomadic settlement, you could count everyone who lived here on a few hands so the pictures had the entire town on display. The walls themselves had a barely noticeable green tint; strangely enough giving a person a headache if one stared at them too long. A thick set of transom windows faced the dangers of the forest. Weapons laid scattered about parts and pieces lying on a solitary round table before the windows with one swivel stool; padded of course. A sniper rifle here, an assault rifle there, a couple pistol pieces just about everywhere. The commander loved cleaning weapons in her spare time. However judging by the disorder of the pistols, she hasn't had much. Her favorite weapon, the Terrascotta, a high powered dark brown assault rifle lies on her desk as always. Though it has been called a "minigun in sheep's clothing" by the higher ranking officers with the caliber it fires. Yahto reacquainted himself with the weapon thinking,

I've only seen it fire once, and that was when that invasion of Nevermore happened several years back. Took two down in a single clip. Unlike the other weapons stationed here, it takes no prisoners. I suppose like owner, like weapon.

A slight shudder came from the young man as he inspected Commander Clara Noir. Her back turned to him at the moment, she seems to be finishing up some deskwork along with checking all motion sensors in the forest line. She stood up to height a bit taller than Yahto, finishing the last remaining checks. Her long black hair stopped about at the middle of her back, partially covering the symbol of the Midbay guards; a golden coffin shield with the steel wall that surrounds the town in the background. She wears a black uniform to go with her hair, but wears a white belt and golden knee-high combat boots as armor to offset the black. She also had twin golden shield shoulder-guards which were polished to perfection. Yahto nearly squinted at their reflected light. Her face has a smooth complexion with bangs that reach just above her eyebrows and intense amber eyes. She could still pass for someone in her mid-twenties, besides one obvious quirk. Her eyes, though piercing in their own right, were heavily sleep deprived. This gave a ghastly and overall ethereal look to her otherwise youthful appearance. She stared down her visitor with devious intent,

"Morning Yahto."

"Morning Ms."

"I'm told that you were outside the village walls with a cargo of some odd number of beowolves heading East down the road. Is that true?" Her voice carried with a sharp and distinct feminine edge, like the thorn of a rose.

Yahto frustratingly thought to himself,

_Of course it is, you already know where I'm going. What else would I be doing them?_

"Yeah. I was heading to Capture Corp."

The commander gave a demanding look. "You will refer to me as Commander, Commander Noir, or Ma'am. You will also speak to me in a formal manner. This is a place of discipline and strength; act as such. I have no sympathy for your casual and weak dialogue; especially your choice of dressage. _Understood?_"

Yahto's face reddened, remembering he was still wearing his sleeping ware. He exasperatedly responded, "Entirely…Ma'am."

"Good. Men, attention!" Shooting a glace to her subordinates, the men all perked up and stood as straight as their body would let them. She sneered continuing,

"This child's name is Yahto Tiama. He is the only one allowed on our grounds to have a hunter's weapon and use the inept soldier's crutch called aura. He is not to be interfered with and can access the city. However, if he happens to be in the way or becomes a detriment to the safety of the settlement, you have every right to open fire."

Sneaking venom into the previous sentence, Noir carried it over to the rest of her speech causing Yahto to grate his teeth. "Trust me cadets, I wish to exile him as much as you do. But he has good ties to our….._esteemed_ partner, Jecht Cobald. Now, can any of you greenies tell me who he exactly is?"

All the soldiers couldn't hold Commander Noir's expectant glare, so their eyes wilted as low as they could go. Either they were afraid to say an incomplete answer or because they plain didn't know, their gaze became infatuated with the black tile.

She scoffed, "Honestly, I know it's your third day, but this is _unacceptable; _expect a surprise training regimen at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

Seeping in the palpable anxiety from her lower ranks, she went on. "Jecht Cobald is head of Capture Corp. He is responsible for our rapid growth from small refueling and trading village, to an armed and powerful force. The wall that protects are city from the Grimm was built upon the wealth we received from him. That wealth is given to us by our partnership. With the help of our villagers, he takes the Grimm we have incapacitated and sends them off to the Hunter schools of Vacuo and Vale. With our strength ever growing, we have been able to set up our own economy, own rules, and regulations free from the kingdoms of Vytal. Their untrustworthy and spineless representatives are not needed nor are they welcome here."

She eyed Yahto again, who had one arm behind his back; fist clenched out of sight and jaw sealed shut, managing to keep a straight face. "This wannabe coward is just the latter of the aforementioned qualities…mostly. So, to summarize, leave the hermit alone and he won't bother us."

She gave a cheshire smile, "Also, remember not to mention the legendary failure of the hunters from years past around the child; specifically, that of Tali Sterling. He wa-"

Yahto's whole being burned and retorted back, "Her name was _Taini_, if you actually knew what you were talking about, perhaps you would have been aware. Now if you don't mind Commander, I have heard enough of you trying to demonize my choices."

Commander Noir gave a menacing chuckle.

"Yes of course, you are free to go."

Yahto immediately turned his back to her and started for the door when Noir declared,

"However, you interfered with our catch of the day. Therefore, a toll must be taken. 5 of your beowolves have been appropriated as tribute."

"You can't do that! I didn't even fire upon those damn Ursa!"

The Commander scowled, "I can, I will, _and I have._ If you want any of your remaining cargo to make it to your good friend Cobald, I suggest you leave now with no further complaints."

She bitterly emphasized each following word,

"_Is. That. Clear?_"

Yahto's face darkened and lost any signature of retaliation.

"Yes ma'am."

He passed the cowering guards and walked back down the coiling staircase, eyes bursting with a menacing blue spark and mouth wired shut. Unlike the time with the driver, he wasn't choking back laughter.


End file.
